The secret chronicles of the midnight barber
by False Premise
Summary: Explore the secret world of the midnight barber... Howard/Vince. Rated for themes. I don't own the boosh. The boosh own me. Also, when reading please imagine it is written in crayon...
1. Chapter 1

They call me the midnight barber. Who are 'they' you may ask. They live all around me. I am like a myth to them- the receivers of my genius, the ones who experience my gift. Imagine waking up in the morning, thinking it is just an ordinary day, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and wa-hey! You're all gorgeous with a genius haircut. I give that gift to people. I even give that gift to animals. They call me the midnight barber. Well, mostly they do. Sometimes they call me all sorts of things like bitch, shitbox, and ballbag, as in, "What little bitch did this?" I did.

This is my secret chronicles. It will be a record of my genius left for future generations. So you can look back and see what's possible. First of all I'm going to tell you how I became the midnight barber and how it works. Then I'm going to keep a record of my experiences for a few months so you'll really see the midnight barber in action. It'll be genius.

As the midnight barber I've cut the hair of 36 people and 15 animals.

Like most things in life being the midnight barber means you have to accessorize. If you are planning on creeping into people's bedrooms at night and cutting their hair while they're all oblivious you must, must wear black. Also, your shoes must not squeak and your clothes can't rustle. I've made a midnight barber suit made out of the blackest of black material, ultra goth super black, so black it sucks the light out of the room. It is a soft fabric and the suit is a full-piece, body hugging kind so it is completely silent. Then, of course you need a pair of good quality scissors, a comb, clippers fitted with a silencer and a spray bottle with water. My midnight barber suit has handy pockets at the front for all my barber needs. You should also carry a small torch, just in case. But the true art of it is being able to cut the hair through touch alone.

My first adventure as the midnight barber was when I was working as a zookeeper. It was the llamas. They were really down. They felt so ordinary and boring in comparison to the other animals in the zoo. It was awful seeing their sad faces…They were practically begging me to do something to help them. Oh, that's the other thing- I can also talk to the animals. I'm like Mogwli but with scissors. So I crept into their enclosure in the dead of night and I gave them mohawks! They weren't ordinary anymore. The next day they were so happy! You should have seen them dancing at their little llama party. Llamas are real party animals if you get them in the right mood.

The first person's hair I cut, well… let's call him Jazzy Bastard. His hair was always annoying me. It was a mass of split ends. He'd let it get so overgrown and he'd never style it. One night he came home after one of his jazz evenings completely drunk and going on and on about how women never noticed him. Then he fell asleep on the couch. I was staring at his sleepy face and thinking of how if only he'd style himself a bit better, be a bit more edgy and confident girls would really go for him. So I'm looking at the brown wispy smoke that was his hair and I thought, "If it is good enough for a llama, well, why not?"

The real art to being the midnight barber is you've got to be able to cut someone's hair using touch alone. This is tricky but I'm a gifted child. I wish I could teach it to you but I can't. You need to have the gift. You have to know hair so well that through touch alone you can know where to cut. You must know what would look genius and what wouldn't without needing to see it. I do take a small torch with me so I can have a glimpse at the end. But really, it is kind of cheating isn't it? You have to cut by touch to be a true midnight barber.

The other thing about being the midnight barber is that you need to make sure the receiver of your genius doesn't wake up. That way it is a surprise. I'm very good at not waking people. You have to be very quiet. You have to be patient. It helps if they're off their tits. If they wake you have to run like hell. Sometimes they'll glimpse me while they're all sleepy and half dreaming. I like that. They'll wake up and see themselves and be wa-hey! Look at my hair…and hey…was that a dream? It feeds the myth. Once there was even an article in Cheekbone about me. Someone had gotten a sleepy glimpse and gave an interview about it. I've only had one person wake up completely. I had to forget about cutting his hair and I haven't tried since. When he woke he said, "I'm a shaman you ballbag! How could you think I wouldn't wake up? Get out of here."

Maybe you're wondering how I choose the right cut for the right person. Well, it's all about context. Like, some people won't ever style their hair and you know it. So it is no good giving them a genius cut that they'll need to style. They need the best wash and wear cut you can muster. Also, you can feel by touch and instinctively know what cut would suit. Sometimes I don't even think about what style I'm going to do I just let my hands take over. What can I say, I'm a gifted child. So that's what being the midnight barber is all about.


	2. Chapter 2

You might be wondering about how people react when they see their new genius haircut. Apart from just the "Wa-hey! My hair!" Well, I've gotten a lot of different reactions to my work. As you probably expect most of it is positive. Of the 36 people whose hair I've cut 17 were absolutely thrilled and didn't realize who'd done it, 9 thought it was genius and realised straight away that it was me (ha- who else?), 3 were unhappy but didn't know who to blame, 4 loved the cut but felt it was an "infringement of their liberties" or whatever, 1 tried to punch me, 1 made me walk the plank and 1 didn't even notice that his hair was being cut and even when I told him after years of me cutting his hair he wasn't grateful at all which is pretty typical of him really. He's the only person whose hair I've cut regularly for years and years, Jazzy Bastard. He lives with me, you see, so it makes it easy. I've cut his hair 58 times. He has never thanked me. I have noticed though that he is always much happier and more relaxed the day after his hair cut which is pretty odd for Jazzy Bastard because usually the only time he's relaxed is when he's in a jazz trance. So even though he doesn't notice he must sense his genius new do somehow.

Of the 15 animals whose hair I've cut 8 were absolutely thrilled and didn't realize who'd done it, 4 thought it was genius and realised it was me and 1 seriously considered eating me. Big mistake, that. Lions don't like hair cuts, especially when you cut their mane. It's against their religion or something. Luckily I'm a gifted child and I managed to talk to him and calm him back down. But we never really got on so well after that. The only animal whose hair I've cut regularly for years and years is a gorilla. I live with him too. He knows I cut it and he thinks its genius.

Sometimes people snore, or talk or move about while you are trying to cut their hair. It can be pretty distracting. Of the 36 people whose hair I've cut 14 snored. One snored like he had a demon trapped inside his nostrils. It was well creepy. But not a demon, apparently, see I know someone who knows these things. Apparently demons don't get trapped inside nostrils. It is just apnea trapped in there. Also, 10 of them talked in their sleep. Mostly they say funny things like, "the satsumas are trying to kill me" or "why's the sky purple?" Sometimes Jazzy Bastard sings scat in his sleep. Imagine that! I have to stuff the pillow in his mouth when he does that on account of my jazz allergy. Yilch…science teachers and the mentally ill, that's all jazz is for. When they move about that's tricky too. It can be hard to cut someone's hair when they're all arms flailing like a giant octopus. Sometimes they can whack you or reach out to you. Jazzy Bastard often reaches out to me and just puts his arm around me or sits his hand on my leg which is weird but also kind of nice because he'd never let me touch him when he's awake. Ever.

Cutting someone's hair in the dead of night while they are all oblivious can be a very intimate thing especially because I cut by touch. I don't mean THAT… But it is intimate, in a strange kind of way. Take Jazzy Bastard for example. I know Jazzy Bastard very well, a little too well at times and if you knew him you'd know what I mean. But when I cut his hair I see a side to him I don't see otherwise. During the day he's always so stressed out and tense, his face all twisted. But when he's lying there all oblivious and I'm gently cutting his hair, his breathing is so soft and steady and he'll just reach out and put his hand on my leg as I cut. He seems so peaceful.

Actually- that's given me an idea. I reckon he's all repressed. Jazzy Bastard, I mean. I'm a trained zoo-keeper you see. It's exactly like those little isolated monkeys…The zoo got in this monkey once that'd been isolated its whole life. No skin to skin contact you see and it grew up all wrong, all knarled and twisted. So I needed to try get through to him. I had to be very patient. I chatted to him all the time and what worked was that I had to just hold him. He needed the skin to skin that he'd never gotten and then he grew back all normal and could play with the other monkeys. Hmm…I'm thinking I should have a second mission- sneak in and just hold him like. Get him loosened up. Maybe then he can be relaxed and happy all the time. I might even be able to ween him off his jazz addiction. I'll try it.


	3. Chapter 3

There are two tricky things about dyeing someone's hair instead of just cutting it. First of all, you've got to avoid getting dye all over the sheets. It might seem like not such a big thing, who cares about stupid old sheets? But if it gets on the sheets it'll get on the person. Give someone a genius new haircut, with a gorgeous red dye job and also get dye splattered all over their face like their head is a giant tomato and guess what they'll notice? So that's the first tricky thing. But really, you just need to take a roll of shrink-wrap to cover up the pillow and the sheets. Then once you've got the dye on you need to pop a good quality shower cap over their head. Easy, see? All protected. I had that bit figured out years ago. It's the other tricky bit that I couldn't quite figure out. Because you don't just put the dye on the hair you've also got to take it off. I think that no matter how warm you make the water pouring water over someone's head is going to wake them up. Still…it has always been a challenge waiting for me. I've considered putting the dye on someone's head and then pouring the water over and just letting them wake up. Maybe even yell, "Surprise, you're a blonde!" or whatever. But…it isn't quite right, is it? The whole midnight barber thing is sneaking in and sneaking back out. I could put on the dye in the early hours of the morning on someone who showers in the morning. Then they'd wash it out themselves. But it is too tricky. They could glimpse themselves before they'd had the shower and who knows what they'd do. They wouldn't even know it was dye. Plus, the timing has to be just right to get the exact colour you're after and I won't do second-rate work.

So, there it was a challenge I needed but I couldn't see a way of making that leap. Then, this month an opportunity presented itself. I was at a party, you see, some friend of a friend's place all the usual types. I was circling the room chatting to the crowd and then I started talking to this cute little Camden dolly-bird. She seemed alright at first and we were really getting on but as we kept talking she turned out to be all sad and complicated, kept going on about Satre. More Jazzy Bastard's type really. She was off her tits on something too. So I moved on to some sweet and simple girls, you know, into bright colours and soft fabrics, more my type. Then later on that night I went to the bathroom and there was little Camden dolly-bird passed out in the bathtub, in the bathtub! I checked on her, of course and she was ok. I'm not a complete bastard. She was fine. She just needed to sleep it off. But I thought, is that a sign or what? After all she was all sad and lonely she could really do with a whole new look. That'd fix anything wouldn't it? It'd be my special little gift. I had all my midnight barber gear on me. I was actually wearing the midnight barber suit underneath my outfit which I sometimes do that at these kinds of parties. You'd be amazed at the opportunities for midnight barbering that come up at parties. So I locked the door so we wouldn't be disturbed and started working my genius. Her hair cut wasn't too bad but I neatened it up and gave her a cheeky fringe. Then I got out the dye, "ultra red" and made the little dolly-bird into a redhead. Genius! She'd have woken up all sad, looked in the mirror and thought, "wa-hey! I'm all gorgeous… I can't be sad anymore and go on about Satre with my beautiful red hair and cheeky fringe."

I've also been spending a lot of time this month trying out my ideas about relaxing the little twisted monkey Jazzy Bastard. Giving a scalp massage is an important skill of barbering. It relaxes the muscles and it stimulates all of the follicles, keeps the hair nice and healthy. I give genius scalp massages. I've been sneaking in and giving Jazzy Bastard a nice scalp massage every night. He sleeps right through it but he loves it! His whole face softens and he relaxes completely. It is like he's in a jazz trance. He gets all happy and snuggles his little nose into my chest just like the monkey used to do. I don't mind, actually, I kind of like it in a weird kind of way. So I just lye there for ages letting him get the skin to skin contact that he needs. It is like being a zookeeper again. I miss the zoo sometimes, all the animals. So I lie there and think about the zoo and all those times and let the little monkey snuggle his little nose into me.

Anyway, I think it is working already. I've noticed heaps of changes in Jazzy Bastard. He's much more relaxed and happy. Everyday is like he usually is the day after a hair cut. Except it is like it is building or something and he's getting happier and happier. Everyone is really shocked. I've had a few people ask me if he's on drugs or something. Also, he's more confident and not in his usual boasting about being a 'man of action' kind of way. He's more quietly confident, like he's becoming comfortable in his own skin. Instead of just going on and on about things he's actually getting stuff done. Like he's really becoming a man of action! We work together in a shop. We are both shopkeepers, you know, and I've noticed that he's even improved with that. Usually I make all of the sales and talk to the customers and he just does things like the stocktaking. But now, he's actually making sales too. Plus, even his ideas about music are better though he still listens to jazz. But we're in a band, you see, and he's come up with some genius ideas since I started his monkey therapy. At this rate we'll be famous popstars on the cover of every magazine by the end of next month. Oh, and that's not even the biggest thing, he hit on a girl! I mean he didn't try and dismally fail like he usually does. He properly hit on a girl, not all stuttering and going on about jazz, just relaxed and normal. They went out for a coffee after work. It didn't work out though. He said something about she was leaving for China in a week and he wasn't that interested anyway. It was probably a lie. But still, he hit on a girl normally. He had a date. When it didn't work out he didn't go on and on about it or stalk her or anything. He just stayed relaxed and happy like I would have done.

This monkey therapy idea is genius…maybe I could branch into a sideline providing scalp massages to little twisted up monkeys…


	4. Chapter 4

Do you think the things people say in their sleep mean anything? As the midnight barber I've heard lots of things that people say in their sleep and I've always thought they didn't mean a thing….I mean what could "the satumas are trying to kill me" mean? But…I dunno….I know someone who knows about these kinds of things. He's a shaman so he is really wise and stuff but he couldn't tell me. He said I had to tell him exactly who said it and what they said so he could know what I was going on about and if I didn't tell him what I knew about what was going on how did I expect him to tell me what was really going on. But I didn't want to do that. I'm not sure why. It just seemed like I shouldn't. Maybe the things people say in their sleep shouldn't be shared like that. Like, maybe being the midnight barber is a sacred bond or something and I can't tell the secrets people tell me in their sleep, like a priest. He laughed when I said I was like a priest and said that the best he could do was say that it could mean something and it probably did mean something if the person had ever said it awake or if the person had ever acted like it when awake. At first I thought that was stupid advice. I mean if he'd said it when he was awake I'd already know what it meant wouldn't I? But that's the thing. It made me remember. He did say it once awake. At the time we were about to die so I guess I didn't take it seriously. I thought that it was just one of those things that you say, you know, when you're about to die. Like how everyone lies about people at their funeral and says how wonderful and beautiful they were when really they were a bastard with fuzzy, ratty hair. The other thing is I think I laughed. Maybe that was a mistake.

Anyway, that probably hasn't got a lot to do with the midnight barbering, except that if you do try out midnight barbering you'll probably hear lots of things that people say in their sleep and you'll get curious too.

I don't get the chance to cut animal's hair so much anymore, except the gorilla who lives with me that is. I used to cut animals hair all the time when I was a zookeeper. Back then I'd cut animal's hair more than people's. I really miss the zoo sometimes. So when the opportunity came to cut an animal's hair I took it. You see, I met this sweet poodle through a friend of a friend, you know how it is. Anyway this poodle her owner (the friend of my friend) didn't style her hair at all. That's just not right for a poodle. You see poodles are very particular about their looks. They're bred to be like that. You've got to feel sorry for them really they are so style conscious but they can't do the styling themselves- no thumbs, you see. They completely rely on their owners to have some style. Well, this poor little poodle, her owner had none. She was well depressed about it. So I snuck in and I gave her the proper little poodle hair cut. She was so happy. It was genius. The owner thought that she looked gorgeous too. I hear that he's going to get her properly groomed all the time now. He is a bit concerned about his security though. Apparently that's why he'd gotten the poodle, for security. Imagine that! This poor little poodle expected to lay down her life to protect this guy who can't even give her a nice hair cut. He didn't understand her needs at all. I think he gets it now.

The monkey therapy of Jazzy Bastard is still going well. No one can believe how happy and relaxed he is, his sales keep going up, and he's full of genius ideas. He's like, becoming a success or something. He's even listening to some of my styling advice. He still wears mostly various shades of beige which he insists on calling, "mushroom" and "nutmeg". But he's wearing clothes that are a bit more stylish and he's started to use product in his hair. I've given him some lessons in how to style it which is brilliant because now I can do more than just a basic wash and wear cut. I can't wait to cut his hair again. He is due for another hair cut in a week or so. I just need to figure out the right style for him, for the new him. He still listens to jazz all the time though. It seems I haven't cured him of that. But that's okay. Oh, and he is giving people proper eye-contact now! I think that's one of the reasons his sales are going up. It almost gave me a fright when he started looking directly into my eyes. But it is nice. I've noticed he does it all the time now, looks straight into my eyes. A couple of times I've noticed that he's looking at me and when I look up at him he doesn't look away. He just smiles at me. Maybe he's realised that I'm responsible for his transformation? Maybe he's wondering how I'm doing it?


	5. Chapter 5

I think I can say I've cured the little twisted monkey, Jazzy Bastard. He's grown back all normal now and can play with the other monkeys. I crept into his room last night. I was so excited because I was going to give him a whole new look. I was even going to put some foils in. I was thinking of putting a nice caramel in, just a few highlights, you know, to create texture. I crept in, propped his head up on the pillow and sat beside him. I had my scissors out and was all ready to begin. He placed his hand on my leg like he does but then he opened his eyes and said, "Hello, little man". I was so shocked I couldn't even run. I've been cutting his hair for years and he's never woken up. He must have noticed my shock because he laughed and said, "Is it time for my haircut is it? I've never thanked you for cutting my hair for all these years have I? Well, thank-you little man, in fact, thank-you for everything". I was so shocked I forgot to breathe. It was like when I go completely overboard with the hairspray and I accidentally breathe in a cloud of spray and it catches in my throat for a moment. My breath caught in my throat and I made a little rasping noise as I started breathing again. I must have looked like a complete berk perched on his bed my scissors still in my hands, my mouth hanging open, chocking on air. He just smiled at me while I recovered. Then just when I'd steadied myself he said loud and clear, "I love you, little man". There was no mistaking it and he was awake and I was awake and no one was trying to kill us. Before I'd even grasped the enormity of it I'd sputtered out, "I love you too". So there he was all calm and confident and there I was sputtering and stumbling over my words and not even knowing what I was thinking. But as I heard the words tumble out of my own mouth I knew that they were true. I love him. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, brushed his hand against my cheek, gently pulled the scissors out of my clasped hand and threw them away on the floor somewhere. Then he leaned in real close and I could feel his breath and his moustache tickling me and he kissed me all wet and eager. I just melted like warm nutella. Well, you don't need to hear the sordid details of the rest of the evening. But let's just say that Jazzy Bastard definitely isn't repressed anymore.

So that's the life of the midnight barber. You've glimpsed just a bit of the genius. I've made a poodle very happy, I've expanded into the art of dyeing people's hair in their sleep making one gorgeous redhead and I've found a new use for the essential barbering skill of scalp massage. It relaxes muscles, stimulates follicles and cures little twisted monkeys and helps them grow back all normal. Then they become all confident, happy and unrepressed and go about telling people important things like that they are in love with them. Then of course the best of all, I've discovered true love, right in my own little flat, right in Jazzy Bastard's arms.

How do I do it? I'm a gifted child. I'm the midnight barber. I do my best work while you're oblivious.


End file.
